Presently the voice—whether that of husband or of son she did not stay to discriminate—it gripped her very vitals—reached her from the bed. She fancied it rang a little stronger.
"It is contemptibly futile, and therefore conspicuously in keeping with the rest, to have taken all this trouble about dying only, in the end, to sneak back."
"Oh! well, sir, after all you're not so very far on the return voyage yet!" Vanstone put in consolingly.
Richard opened his eyes. Katherine's vision was blurred. She could not see very clearly, but she fancied he smiled.
"Yes, with luck, I may still give you all the slip," he said.
"Now, a little more, sir, please. Yes, you can if you try."
"But I tell you I don't care about this business of sneaking back. I don't want to live."
"Very likely not. But I'm very much mistaken if you want to die, like a cat in a cupboard, here ashore. Mend enough to get away on board the yacht to sea. There'll be time enough then to argue the question out, sir. Half a mile of blue water under your feet sends up the value of life most considerably."
As he spoke the sailor looked at Katherine Calmady. His glance enjoined caution, yet conveyed encouragement.
"Here, take down the rest of it, Sir Richard," he said persuasively. "Then I swear I won't plague you any more for a good hour."